When disasters strike, famine or catastrophe, crop failure or disease, locust or beetle, or when an enemy attacks their defenses—calamity of any sort—any prayer that’s prayed from anyone at all among your people Israel, hearts penetrated by the disaster, hands and arms thrown out to this Temple for help, Listen from your home in heaven. Forgive and go to work on us. Give what each deserves, for you know each life from the inside (you’re the only one with such “inside knowledge”!) so that they’ll live before you in lifelong reverent and believing obedience on this land you gave our ancestors.
Amos 4:9The Message“I hit your crops with disease and withered your orchards and gardens. Locusts devoured your olive and fig trees, but you continued to ignore me.” God’s Decree. See the chapter |
21 Cross References
When disasters strike, famine or catastrophe, crop failure or disease, locust or beetle, or when an enemy attacks their defenses—calamity of any sort—any prayer that’s prayed from anyone at all among your people Israel, their hearts penetrated by disaster, hands and arms thrown out for help to this Temple, Listen from your home in heaven, forgive and reward us: reward each life and circumstance, For you know each life from the inside, (you’re the only one with such inside knowledge!), So they’ll live before you in lifelong reverence and believing obedience on this land you gave our ancestors.
“Why bother even trying to do anything with you when you just keep to your bullheaded ways? You keep beating your heads against brick walls. Everything within you protests against you. From the bottom of your feet to the top of your head, nothing’s working right. Wounds and bruises and running sores— untended, unwashed, unbandaged. Your country is laid waste, your cities burned down. Your land is destroyed by outsiders while you watch, reduced to rubble by barbarians. Daughter Zion is deserted— like a tumbledown shack on a dead-end street, Like a tarpaper shanty on the wrong side of the tracks, like a sinking ship abandoned by the rats. If God-of-the-Angel-Armies hadn’t left us a few survivors, we’d be as desolate as Sodom, doomed just like Gomorrah.
But you, God, you have an eye for truth, don’t you? You hit them hard, but it didn’t faze them. You disciplined them, but they refused correction. Hardheaded, harder than rock, they wouldn’t change. Then I said to myself, “Well, these are just poor people. They don’t know any better. They were never taught anything about God. They never went to prayer meetings. I’ll find some people from the best families. I’ll talk to them. They’ll know what’s going on, the way God works. They’ll know the score.” But they were no better! Rebels all! Off doing their own thing. The invaders are ready to pounce and kill, like a mountain lion, a wilderness wolf, Panthers on the prowl. The streets aren’t safe anymore. And why? Because the people’s sins are piled sky-high; their betrayals are past counting.
“I’ll make up for the years of the locust, the great locust devastation— Locusts savage, locusts deadly, fierce locusts, locusts of doom, That great locust invasion I sent your way. You’ll eat your fill of good food. You’ll be full of praises to your God, The God who has set you back on your heels in wonder. Never again will my people be despised. You’ll know without question that I’m in the thick of life with Israel, That I’m your God, yes, your God, the one and only real God. Never again will my people be despised.
Though the cherry trees don’t blossom and the strawberries don’t ripen, Though the apples are worm-eaten and the wheat fields stunted, Though the sheep pens are sheepless and the cattle barns empty, I’m singing joyful praise to God. I’m turning cartwheels of joy to my Savior God. Counting on God’s Rule to prevail, I take heart and gain strength. I run like a deer. I feel like I’m king of the mountain! (For congregational use, with a full orchestra.)
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